


They dream of a future that is not theirs

by indecisivemess



Category: Original Work
Genre: Nonbinary Character, Not Beta Read, Other, Plans For The Future, Queerplatonic Relationships, This is almost run in poesy except not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:27:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27249523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indecisivemess/pseuds/indecisivemess
Summary: Idk, im too sleep deprived and everything is going wrong in my life. This will never happen and i know that
Kudos: 1





	They dream of a future that is not theirs

They dream of a future that is not theirs.

A future contained in the walls of a house they can call theirs, decorated by plants and books, and the most amazing things. A future filled with big windows from where the light can shine through, greeting them in the mornings; mornings that should be less painful to endure.

By their side on the bed is the love of their life, sleeping soundly, ignoring all of his alarms, and Alma is the one that always has to wake him up, but they secretly adore that. Sitting up, leaning down, holding them close. Easton could sleep through a hurricane, he has done that before, so that little won’t shake him from his slumber, but a little kindness went a long way.

The cats would come greet them by the time Easton is stretching around on the sheets, all of his joins popping and aching. Their feline eyes would look at them and think of them like a safe heaven, another one of their little group, and their husband would materialize into their kitchen to fill in their bowls as Alma walked to the coffee machine. Not so much of a lifeline anymore, just a little treat to start the day, with milk and three sugars.

Old habits die hard, but these weren’t so bad. The hands grabbing at the air would laugh at the silliness of forgetting before the tips of their fingers brushed at the undercut next to their ears, the feeling of the growing hairs ripped away from them when Easton came around and bumped against their head against their chest for comfort. And who could say no to hugs.

Work is hard. It should not be romanticized through any other lens, but it was an excuse to leave the house, see the greens of the trees and the grass, the browns of the flying birds and the blue of the sky. Everything would be easier when they finally understand that people care about them, and that they expect them to come back home.

Rainy days still need to happen, of course, but the warmth of having someone there, of holding another person while the world melts away into darkness would be a blessing they couldn’t have. Not yet.

Dinner time and baking time and any other programmed times should be fun, and not a dreaded moment weighted by past mistakes and ice cubes. If too much flour got on the carpet, and batter stuck to hair, then it would be washed away in the laughter, and in the comfort of eating half of the ingredients before they made it into their final form.

There’s so many other things, so hard to compress together. Forehead touches, little nose bumps, holding hands and kisses. Looking for each other’s glasses. Yelling at the other that their favorite hyper fixation is flashing on the screen. Game rage cured by sorrowful cuddles. Falling asleep tangled in each other on the couch.

Every night, they dream of a future that will never be theirs.

**Author's Note:**

> Idk, im too sleep deprived and everything is going wrong in my life. This will never happen and i know that


End file.
